Sunday, December 1, 2013

Winter Magic

Winter Magic

her profile altered
by blue swirls and a snowman
rendered in face paint
surrounded by twirls of snow
framed by her beautiful smile

by judy Beaston
December 1, 2013

Friday, November 22, 2013

happy - a poem


single yellow blossom
dancing in an open meadow
inhaling life - exhaling joy

Wednesday, November 6, 2013

Where did Autumn go?

Summer splendor slipped with little fanfare into the transition days of fall -- some demanding more of summer's heat and others teasing with winter's chill, and we even tasted nature's liquid refreshment, long-missing this season.

September danced with eagerness upon new endeavors -- school for everyone, all five members of this household, this fall. That varied across age-lines, of course.

The youngest, Jayden, proudly dons his fox design red backpack every morning as he heads to daycare/preschool.

His older sister slips on a bigger, heavier version and with equal gusto, heads off to first grade.

Their mom returned to university this fall, a shift from pre-school teacher to a career in electronics on her horizon; while their dad continued his own college courses also directing him into the field of engineering.

Meanwhile, Nana (that's me) dove into a mix of writing and poetry courses and projects, balancing (without much success) those with the return of community band rehearsals and plans for a remodel of the kitchen.

All that to say -- GOOD GRIEF, my last entry was in August and we're fast approaching Thanksgiving already.  I was reminded by a poet friend today that my blog was a bit dated - a polite understatement.

I'll be writing midst dust and noise and a missing kitchen soon -- stay tuned...

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Visiting Portland's Japanese Garden

Japanese Garden Pond

sheltered by green trees,
stone pagoda guards quiet
garden pond, dancing
waterfall sings harmony
invites peaceful reflection

by judy Beaston
August 11, 2013

Wednesday, July 3, 2013


No Body Here

Morning calls,
my groggy body replies;
first the cat's demands
meted out from a tin can,
then yogic breathing,
stretches loosen limbs,
eyes open wider;
blood flows, creaking,
groaning joints move free.

I open my front door,
cross the threshold, step
onto an accident scene,
the body's outline chalked
upon the concrete walkway
mere inches from the doormat
bidding all "WELCOME!"

Chalked images of shoes rest
next to the figure, lined up
as if he were merely sleeping,
a transient who stopped by
having heard about a party,
or so I speculate when I notice
the party popper in – no "on" –
his chalked hand. You know
the ones – they send confetti
and more into the air at the pull
of a simple string. Poor guy
appears nude, his butt outlined
in soft, curved, yellow powder.

A heart placed near the house
completes the picture, perhaps,
or as a message that all is in fun,
a non-malicious game by teens
at a summer party, their thrill
my shock as I take gentle steps
past this crime scene outline
and retrieve my morning paper.

Monday, July 1, 2013

summer pleasures


feet, glorious feet
guide our walks from here to there
toes freed or toes crimped
inside socks and pointed shoes
or laughing with painted nails

by judy beaston
July 1, 2013

With summer comes the pleasure of exposed feet and toes and an opportunity to decorate toenails in bright colors, even add flowers. My feet smile when the weather allows for more freedom. There's just no breathing inside winter's socks, no matter how thin the fabric. 

The above photo represents three generations enjoying the fun, and we each included flowers on our toes. I must admit, that was/is a first for me. I'm not generally one to gravitate toward painted nails on either hands or feet, but the opportunity to share the experience with my daughter and granddaughter could not be passed up.

Saturday, June 1, 2013


Tonight I watched Bonneville - an old movie. I've seen it several times over the years. But, it spoke to me again tonight - about the importance of releasing the past and of embracing life right now.

So easy to hold on to the physical connections to memories, good times and puzzling ones, joyous adventures and those we'd sooner forget but hold on to them because they are threaded with important parts of self.

By releasing, we - I - make room for today, for new adventures and for reasons to weave the old into the new - opportunities to create a beautiful new pattern in the tapestry of my life.

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Who Ordered Pizza?

A new tale wove into existence this month, sparked by a flash fiction challenge created by my writing friend Mysti Parker. She posted it on her website today and I'm smiling. There's just something special about finding my stories living a life of their own, out there where at least a few others will read them, hopefully feel a bit of pleasure for having read them.

If so motivated, you can find the story here:

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Family Album - Full Circle

Full Circle

connections sing three-part harmony,
from the shadows, a deep bass resonates
accompaniment - wisdom and love
passed on from father, mother
to daughter, son
each awed by the presence of the others,
bonded by invisible elements
linked by genes, blood, the essence
of human existence.

by judy Beaston
May 2, 2013

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Poetry - Devil's Lake, Wisconsin

Devil’s Lake, Wisconsin

on the cusp of fall
remnants of summer still tempt
boats wait on sandy shore
hills promise tranquil journeys
fair weather guests have gone home

Photo by Judy Beaston, September 2012
Poem by Judy Beaston, April 2013

Sunday, April 28, 2013

A Writer's Place - tanka

A Writer’s Place

dreams hidden below
office landscapes, beg a song
their story be told
how ideas flowed, gave them life
then held them frozen in time

simple collections
gather upon the palettes
of creative minds
story snippets, colored notes
pregnant keyboard awaits birth

Photo and poetry by Judy Beaston, 2013

Saturday, April 27, 2013

Cannon Beach - a tanka

Cannon Beach

ocean air dances
sand, salt, and sea spray hold hands
coax beach wanderers
onto soft sandy reaches
for long walks, meditation

Photo and poem by Judy Beaston

Friday, April 26, 2013

tanka - spring synergy

spring synergy

winter’s chill undone
beneath clear warmth of spring’s sun
stretched upon the deck
slender cat soothes aging joints
eyes closed, body drinks pure bliss

Photo by Judy Beaston
Poem by Judy Beaston, April 26, 2013

Thursday, April 25, 2013

poetry - tanka

flower field

waning rays’ soft glow
deepens tulip buds’ blushes
magenta, crimson
soldier on, row after row
silent stewards of beauty

Photo -, Tulip Field, wallpaper 
Poem by Judy Beaston, April 25, 2013

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Charmed by Spring

Took most of the day off to step back into nature by visiting the Japanese Garden here in Portland. The tranquility refreshes me, even with other people wandering around. I took my time, breathed in the colors, the energized silence. I actually prefer being alone here. When I visit with a friend, words break the spell too often.

I was surrounded by some elegant pink blossomed trees, a few strong reds and the promise of much growth to come. Promise - a good word. The promise of releasing the weight of the busyness of life, the promise of shaking off winter and embracing the energy of new life and the promise of what waits when I return - soon - for my next visit.

Perhaps tomorrow, a poem...

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Spring into writing

Been chasing down my muse today. Weather's nice, dry and partly sunny - a plus for the Pacific Northwest. Creativity churns when my muse goes on holiday without me. The pieces left behind become a rather disorderly bunch and there's just no getting the words, phrases and ideas to line up in any sensible, ready for writing order.  Even so, I pulled this one together last night. Hope you enjoy it, maybe recognize some of your own days when creative expression is challenged.

While the Muse is Away

I am a poet,
my pockets overflow
with letters, words,
ideas, snappy phrases,

like sensible shoes, each of them
capable of long journeys,
comfortable as well for brevity,

eager for journeys to ocean beaches,
Puget Sound, Mt. Saint Helens, empty
now of her pent up rage, her cauldron
contents less volatile than long ago.

Pockets emptied onto the desk,
sorted, they prove a rambunctious,
disorderly lot, unwilling to gather
in any sort of poetic line-up,
I’m thinking maybe a few mug shots
might snap them into attention.

Wearied now, I catch a giggle,
then another – before long
my resistance fades, laughter
bubbles within, face forms a smile,
shoulders relax and I sigh, accept
my muse’s absence and reach
for a mighty fine wine, comfortable
chair and an engaging book.

by judy Beaston
March 23, 2013

Friday, February 1, 2013

Heading into 2013

Not just another year

Born this day a few decades past,
a journey undertaken for adventure,
exploration of human existence,
the unfolding of a lily in the morning,
dances of the bees at noon,
soaring on the wings of a hawk
through warm afternoon skies.

And now? The hawk circles, locates
another thermal, rides ever higher,
the world a vast uncharted vista
with much yet to discover, experience;
too soon to find the evening metaphor,
knowing this is not just another year.

by judy Beaston
January 31, 2013